


Cabin Fever

by Maiden_of_Asgard



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Appalachian Mountains, Black Cats, Caffeine Addiction, Creepy with a Side of Fluff, F/M, Folklore, Gen, Halloween, Hiking, Jane Foster & Darcy Lewis Friendship, Jane Foster Loves Science, Post-Canon, Protective Loki (Marvel), Shapeshifting, There's something in the woods, lokane - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 15:29:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16432073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maiden_of_Asgard/pseuds/Maiden_of_Asgard
Summary: Jane Foster needs to get away from it all, and the mountains of Appalachia seem like the perfect place to take a vacation - a working vacation, of course. She’s come across reports of a circle in the forest where nothing will grow, and the locals have claimed to see strange bright lights in the night sky dating back hundreds of years.Conventional wisdom might suggest that it’s just a rural legend, but Jane has seen enough in the past few years to make her fully appreciate the potential of superstitions and myths.She tells herself that the time alone will be nice; she needs it, and she’s more than capable of taking care of herself. Except…Something on the mountain just doesn’t feel right. She’s supposed to be alone… but she can’t shake the feeling that she isn’t.





	Cabin Fever

Jane Foster enjoyed solitude.

At least, she’d _thought_ that she enjoyed solitude. Maybe the kind of solitude that she appreciated was the type that came with being the only person awake in a state-of-the-art research lab at three in the morning, and _not_ the type that involved staying in a tiny shoebox of a cabin on the side of some foggy mountain.

She stood on the tiny porch, glaring at her phone. The view before her might’ve been magnificent… _if_ she hadn’t been entirely surrounded by mist. Honestly, it looked like she was stranded in a sea of clouds. It seemed like nature itself was conspiring to make her work more difficult.

“Can you hear me, Darcy?”

“Kind of, now. _Jesus,_ Jane, where are you that you don’t have cell service? It’s twenty-eighteen, we’re _better_ than this.”

“I had to step outside. I don’t know why that made a difference, but it seems like it did. How are things?”

“Okay, I _guess._ Tony has me sitting in on some dumb conference he’s hosting. I’m not _qualified,_ Jane! They’re talking about physics. Physics isn’t _my thing.”_

“It isn’t a dumb conference, and I need you to take notes, okay?”

“It’s being recorded, and I already know that ‘taking notes’ really means ‘looking after Erik.’ Why don’t you just come back and go on this quest of yours some other time? And maybe bring me along. We can go to the Caribbean.”

“Darce—”

A loud sigh rattled her phone’s speaker. “I know, I know. But why couldn’t you have stayed in Chatham County, at least? That’s a little bit less worrying. I’m _worried,_ Jane.”

“There’s no reason to be worried, why are you worried?”

“Because!” Darcy paused for a moment or two, and Jane worried that she might’ve lost the call. “You just packed up and _disappeared,_ Jane, and this isn’t exactly your usual rodeo.”

“I told Tony I was taking a break. And studying natural phenomena is totally my thing, so I don’t know what _that’s_ about.”

She could practically _feel_ Darcy rolling her eyes on the other side of the phone. “Not in creepy cabins in the woods.”

“It’s not creepy, it’s—”

“I’m driving down,” Darcy interrupted. “As soon as this conference is over, I’m coming down. It’ll be fun - I’ll bring Bruce, and you guys can work on science stuff, and I won’t have to worry about you getting serial-killed. Or like, eaten by a grizzly bear.”

“Grizzly bears aren’t exactly a thing here—”

“Non-grizzly bears, then. I’m coming, Jane. Okay?” There was another pause. “I know that things have been… rough, you know? I don’t want you to feel like you have to go off on your own. You’ve got a whole squad now. Okay?”

“Okay.” The conference wouldn’t be over for another week… that should give her some time to focus, right? And she did enjoy having someone to talk to - or to talk _at,_ really - when it came to her theories. “Thanks. And bring a jacket when you come. It’s moist here.”

“Gross. You _know_ I hate that word.”

Jane smiled. “I know. Talk to you later, Darcy.”

“Keep me posted!”

She began to tuck the phone away, then thought better of it, opening the camera. Holding her phone at arm’s length, Jane did her _absolute best_ to take a selfie. It wasn’t exactly within her skillset, and it showed - she looked more concerned than carefree. Her fourth attempt proved decent enough, and she sent it to Darcy immediately, hoping that it would convince her that everything was _totally normal_ and _okay._

Really, things weren’t totally normal, but Jane had come to expect that. Her life clearly wasn’t _meant_ to be normal, and if falling in love with a Viking god and getting sucked through an interdimensional portal to a dead world hadn’t been enough to convince her of that, half of the universe getting snapped out of existence certainly had.

Jane couldn’t remember exactly what happened, or what her fate had been before the Avengers managed to ‘fix’ it, but she _was_ one of the only people on Earth who knew that it had happened at _all,_ and that was a lot to handle.

And there was the fact that everyone wanted a piece of _Dr. Jane Foster, the world’s foremost astronomer._ She missed the days of Puente Antiguo, the joys of cobbling together their own crappy equipment, the _wonder_ of it all… Sure, at the _time,_ it had seemed pretty bleak, but now…

The message wouldn’t send, and after a few frustrating minutes spent waving it around in the air, she gave up and went inside to finish unpacking.

As tiny rental cabins went, Jane figured that this one was pretty nice. It had two floors, though the second floor was admittedly more of a loft than anything. There was a bedroom that held a queen-sized bed and an en-suite bathroom, and another bedroom with a pair of tiny, cramped bunk beds. The kitchen was small, but functional - all she needed, really.

There was even a T.V., but the channel selection seemed pretty mediocre.

And the view, if the fog ever cleared, was _sure_ to be spectacular.

 

* * *

 

For as long as she could remember, Jane had been fascinated by the allure of explaining the inexplicable. As she’d grown up and turned to serious studies, her path had led her to the sky, to the _stars._ She’d realized, after all that she’d been through, that there were probably quite a few things right here beneath her feet that she’d been missing, things that _everyone_ had been missing.

It had started with dreams. She’d dream that she was standing in the middle of the Bifrost site, only every time it appeared, the setting was different. Then she’d dream of Thor’s brother, Loki, leading her through cracks and portals that she couldn’t even see; that was even _more_ confusing, because she had very few memories of their escape from Asgard and the subsequent journey to Svartalfheim. Sometimes, she would just dream of trees, and that was strange, too - Jane couldn’t remember the last time she’d been in any sort of _forest._

Interdimensional travel seemed to be the theme, and when she saw an article online about a remote site in the Appalachians that had been subject to several centuries of unexplained natural phenomena… her interest was piqued. Maybe the universe was sending her a sign.

There were two distinct curiosities about the location in question. Firstly, there was supposedly a circular area on one of the densely-vegetated mountainsides, approximately ten meters in diameter, where _nothing_ would grow. That alone was nothing new; she’d read about the Devil’s Tramping Grounds in Chatham County on more than one occasion, and the similarities were evident. One might’ve even been inclined to believe that it was simply a copy-cat legend.

But there was also the matter of the lights. Locals reported seeing reddish-purple lights, bright as stars, wisping up over the mountains. They claimed that they could be seen regardless of weather conditions or time of day, and Jane was _intrigued._

Of course, it _might’ve_ simply been proton emissions from organic decay, or some sort of atmospheric refraction, or bioluminescence, or a million other things… but her gut told her that it was worth a look. A large circle burned into the ground and strange sightings in the sky around it spoke to her of passages to other worlds and magic and _science._

 _That can wait, Jane,_ she told herself. She should probably eat before she got too invested in anything else. She should _probably_ sleep, too - she had promised herself that she would try to make this not-vacation at least a little leisurely.

The heater didn’t seem to be working, and she fidgeted with the thermostat for a few minutes, irritated. It wasn’t freezing or anything, but it was definitely chilly, and she imagined that it would only get colder if it stayed rainy and cloudy all week long. There was a fireplace, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to deal with it. The cabin owner had mentioned having firewood somewhere, but she wasn’t really in the mood to go looking for it.

Sometime tomorrow, she should drive to the nearest town and pick up some groceries. She’d grabbed some snacks and instant mac-and-cheese on the drive up, but now that she had the empty cabinets staring back at her, it seemed pretty inadequate. At least there was coffee. Kraft mac-and-cheese followed by a dessert of Pop Tarts and coffee was a decent enough meal, right?

That was essentially what had gotten her through college… and grad school.

Jane hadn’t been off on her own in a long time, and suddenly cutting herself off from the hustle and bustle of Stark Tower and international speaking engagements and observatory visits was a little unsettling, if she was being entirely honest with herself. She didn’t feel as peaceful as she’d hoped; instead, she felt on-edge, like she was waiting for something major to happen, some bizarre discovery to fall into her lap.

Maybe Bruce was right. Maybe she should try talking to a professional about the Convergence… about _everything._

As she stirred her dinner of champions in one of the cabin’s slightly-dented pots, she kept getting the nagging sensation that someone was _watching_ her. At first, she told herself she was being crazy, and of course, when she turned to look around the room, no one was there. Still, Jane had a fair share of reasons to be a little more paranoid than the average person.

For one thing, there was always a possibility that S.H.I.E.L.D. (or some other equally-intrusive semi-governmental agency) had decided to start spying on her again. There was also the fact that she’d been possessed by the Aether, and was one of the only human beings alive who’d visited other worlds. There was a non-zero probability that she’d caught some unwanted attention when she’d been carted off from Asgard with one of the Infinity Stones inside of her.

Yes, all in all, there was good reason for Jane to lend a little more credence to odd sensations of being watched than the average person might consider _reasonable._

She scarfed down her dinner while watching the local weather, annoyed to find that it was supposed to be rainy and cloudy all week. _So much for the lights,_ she thought. At least she could check out the ground site.

Jane stepped back out onto the porch, hoping to spy some stars before bed, but the sky was nearly pitch-black. It was frustrating, but at least it was peaceful. The last time she’d sat around listening to nature sounds, they’d been coming from an app Darcy’d installed on her phone to try to get her to sleep.

A high-pitched wailing suddenly tore through the night, and Jane was so startled that she nearly dropped her phone over the railing. The sound petered off, and Jane backed towards the door, her heart pounding. Wolves, maybe? A lone panther? _No,_ she thought, _no way._ Coyotes, maybe?

But she’d heard coyotes plenty of times in Puente Antiguo… they didn’t sound like _that._

Maybe it was just some kids messing around at one of the other cabins on the mountainside; it wasn’t like she was completely alone up here, and she knew sound could carry and distort in strange ways. It was only a few days til Halloween; maybe someone was having some sort of party.

Still, her skin was crawling, and she quickly retreated back into her cabin, making sure to lock the door and fasten the deadbolt. Maybe it _would_ be nice to have Darcy and Bruce come stay with her.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, she downed a quick coffee and then took her truck down into the valley to pick up some supplies. While the selection at the little grocery store wasn’t _fantastic,_ she wasn’t really willing to drive to an actual town to find a Walmart, so she made do. There was a little diner attached to the gas station, and she ate most of a stack of pancakes, proud of herself for being so productive.

It had started raining by the time she started back up the windy, steep roads to her cabin, and Jane clutched her steering wheel with a death-grip, half afraid that she wouldn’t make it. She’d _planned_ to go hiking towards the mysterious no-grow site as soon as she’d put her groceries away, but the weather made that seem like a total no-go.

Jane sighed and started brewing another coffee. Darcy was right; she should probably cut back.

She might as well spend her time making a game plan, she decided, and she spread out an actual paper map on the table, feeling a little bit like a kid again. When was the last time she’d been so removed from cutting-edge technology?

As soon as the weather let up a little, Jane hopped into her truck and headed for the mystery spot. The paved road eventually became gravel, and then dirt, and then mud. She stopped abruptly upon rounding a tight corner, outraged to find that a creek literally _cut across the road._

Drumming her fingers on the wheel, she wondered if she had enough elevation to just drive through. Would it flood the transmission? Sure, she was in a truck, but it was a _tiny_ truck. There was also the fact that it seemed to be all mud and smooth pebbles, and she didn’t know how much traction her tires would be able to get…

She turned off the engine and stepped out, lugging her backpack with her. There were tiny rays of sunlight making it through the clouds and the trees, and she squinted at the sky, wondering how long she’d have before the rain started up again. Her phone proved useless - no service.

 _It’ll be fine,_ she told herself. _Besides, that’s what the rain jacket is for, anyway. I’ve survived worse than a little rain and mud._

Crossing the creek was trickier than she’d expected; the rocks were deceptively slippery, and it took her an embarrassingly long time to successfully find a path that she could manage. The muddy dirt-road disappeared into the greenery before her, and once again, Jane felt that nagging little sense of being watched.

Hesitating, she pulled out her phone again, sending a text to Darcy, telling her that she was going on a hike and that she’d call later. She tucked the phone away before she could see if the message sent; it was more comforting to imagine that it had. Feeling a bit more confident, she set out on her hike.

 

* * *

 

The circle in the woods was every bit as unsettling as Jane had been led to believe.

By the time she’d reached it, long after turning off of the ‘main’ road, the trail was almost impossible to navigate. The trail had occasional blazing, and she _knew,_ based on the articles she’d read, that people came there to camp sometimes, but it was very easy to imagine that she was the only human who’d ever set foot there, all the same.

There were little scraps of fabric tied on some of the branches of the trees surrounding the clearing, most in tatters, but a few were still brightly-colored and new. Jane wondered if it was some kind of local tradition. She’d have to ask, next time she went down to the diner.

Oddly, the dirt in the circle seemed to be dry, despite all of the rain, and she wondered if there was something in the soil composition that made that one particular area drain differently than the soil surrounding it. That might explain, too, why nothing would grow. She took a few photos, then pulled out a few vials and a permanent marker, collecting and labelling soil samples from different areas of the clearing.

A twig snapped, and Jane spun on her heel, wondering if another hiker had decided to brave the weather. “Hello?” she called.

_Silence._

In fact… in fact, there was no sound at _all,_ no birds, no rustling leaves, no insects. Had it been that way the entire time? She didn’t think so, but she’d been so focused on her task, maybe she hadn’t noticed.

“Hello?” she called again, a little louder this time, shoving the collection vials into her backpack.

The rain began to pick up, and Jane backed out of the circle, her hackles raised, then turned and hurried back along the trail. _Don’t run,_ she told herself. _You’re being ridiculous - you’re probably running away from a racoon, or something._ And another part of her, a more primitive, lizard-brain part, told her that if she did run, _whatever_ it was that was out there would know that she was aware of being stalked and strike.

_You’ve been watching too many movies, Jane._

She reached her truck without any issues, relief flooding through her as soon as she made it back to the paved roads. _What the hell is wrong with you?_ she asked herself. _After everything you’ve been through, you’re afraid of some old superstitions?_

But the feeling lingered, and when she turned from the pot of chili she was stirring on the stove that night to find a tiny black cat sitting directly behind her on the kitchen table, his green eyes glowing, Jane dropped her spoon on the floor and screamed.

The cat - _kitten,_ she realized, it was much too small to be a fully-grown cat - didn’t move. In fact, she was pretty sure that it was _judging_ her, in that way that only cats seemed to judge, its tail flicking against the tabletop.

“Oh, God,” she said, clutching her chest. “Where did _you_ come from, little guy?”

The kitten stared at her. Maybe he’d slipped in while she was bringing in groceries, then hidden away somewhere warm? She knew cats could be incredibly sneaky when it came to getting in and out of tight spaces - or at least, that was what she’d heard. She’d always been more of a dog person.

“Do you have a collar, or something? A tag?” She reached out a tentative hand, but the kitten flattened his ears and let out an impressive hiss, and Jane quickly retreated. “Okay, so no collar, then. And a bad attitude.”

She couldn’t just toss him outside, even if she did have a way to catch it without getting clawed to death; it was cold and raining, and she imagined that there were quite a few animals out in the woods that would consider him a pretty appealing snack. _Poor little guy._

“Are you hungry?” she asked, tossing the dirty spoon into the sink and pulling another one from the drawer. What did cats eat, anyway? _Meat, obviously._ “Want some chili?”

The kitten watched impassively as she fished some of the ground beef out of the pan - she wasn’t exactly sure if everything in the sauce was cat-safe, and she didn’t want to risk poisoning the little guy. She put it on a saucer and set it on the floor by the table. “There you go.”

He didn’t move. In fact, he almost looked like he was glaring at her. Jane was dumbfounded. _Maybe he’s afraid to come down to the floor,_ she reasoned, and so she put the saucer on the table. The kitten blinked slowly, then started eating.

“Yeah,” Jane said, a little unsettled. “You’re welcome.”

 

* * *

 

The kitten seemed to make himself perfectly at home in the cabin, which made Jane a little suspicious that he wasn’t actually feral, like she’d originally believed. He spent most of the afternoon wandering around the cabin, dodging any of her attempts to pick him up. Eventually, Jane gave up and decided to ignore him. When the sun started to go down, she was sitting on the couch watching T.V., and a low yowl alerted her to his newest fixation - the door.

Goosebumps broke out across her skin. “What’s up, little guy?” she asked, pushing her laptop away. The kitten’s dark fur was fluffed, and his ears were twitching.

The door, Jane noticed then, was still unlocked.

“Time to turn in for the night?” she asked lightly, trying to push down her growing sense of unease. She hopped up from the couch and locked the door, fastening the deadbolt. “Are you a scaredy-cat?”

Apparently, he didn’t appreciate jokes. He turned his flat green eyes to regard her with a look of contempt, then sauntered off to curl up on the couch. Jane sighed and returned to her seat, a little surprised when her new guest didn’t immediately bite her.

 

* * *

 

Jane woke up when the morning sun began peeking through the curtains and blinds, sprawled on the couch. The first thing she saw, when she opened her eyes, was a pair of shiny green eyes, right in her face. The kitten was perched on her chest, purring loudly, his front paws digging into her neck.

She pulled herself up, yawning, and he fell into her lap. “Are you trying to strangle me, or something?”

He narrowed his eyes.

“I almost feel like you can understand me,” she said. “But I guess a lot of people say that about animals. Personally, I never had too many pets. Dad didn’t see the point. You’re cute, though.”

She gingerly patted him on the head with two fingers, and the kitten closed his eyes and purred for a minute or two, then suddenly bit her.

“Ow! _Uncalled_ for,” she snapped, and he leapt from her lap as she stood and made her way to the kitchen to get her morning nectar brewing. “I’m going to take a shower, okay? And since it’s sunny, I’m going to go install a heat-flux sensor for the soil and a radiometer today, I think. All this digging around isn’t exactly my thing, but science calls for thoroughness.”

The kitten seemed vaguely interested, and Jane mentally smacked herself. _You’re talking to a cat,_ _Jane._ _The cat doesn’t care about your experiments._

But when she emerged from her room, dressed in clean clothes and ready to head out for the day, the kitten was perched on her backpack, almost like he was _waiting_ for her. Jane dumped her coffee into a thermos, then pulled on her jacket, but he hadn’t budged an inch by the time she made it to the door.

“Okay, bud,” she said, trying to sound stern. “I’ve gotta go, okay? That’s my stuff.”

She was pretty sure the kitten rolled his eyes. _What the hell…?_

“C’mon, now.” Sighing, she bent to try to scoop him up, but the infuriating little thing dug his claws into the fabric and hissed like some sort of maniac, and Jane gave up almost immediately. “Are you kidding me right now?”

She decided to just pick up the backpack, instead, positive that he’d jump off as soon as his perch started to move… but he kept his claws dug in and held tight; in fact, if she didn’t know better, she might’ve thought he almost seemed smug.

That’s how the esteemed Dr. Jane Foster ended up hiking down an isolated trail in the Appalachian Mountains with a black cat perched on her backpack.

 

* * *

 

“You know,” she said as she made her way back to the truck, “you’re pretty weird, even for a cat.”

If she was being _totally_ honest with herself, she was kind of glad to have him with her, even if he was just an animal; she’d gotten that same feeling in the clearing again today, and she’d _thought_ she noticed a few more scraps of fabric tied to the trees around it, even though she didn’t see footprints or any other signs that anyone had been there since last night’s rain.

The forest was silent, but she could hear him purring. It was kind of soothing.

“You need a name, I guess, if we’re going to be spending any time together. What’s a good name for a black cat? Cinder? Smoky?” The kitten’s purring stopped, and Jane sighed. “How about Lucky?” she said. “Y’know, since black cats are supposed to be bad luck? Does that work?”

The purring resumed.

“Lucky it is, then.”

 

* * *

 

Jane pretended that she didn’t notice the scratches on the outside of the door when she got back to the cabin, telling herself that they might’ve even been there when she arrived, left over from some vacationing family with a large dog, or something like that.

Sure, they _looked_ fresh, and she was usually pretty observant, so she _thought_ she would’ve noticed something like that, but… she’d much rather tell herself that she’d just missed them.

She bolted the door as soon as she was inside, which Lucky the cat seemed to approve of, as he hopped off of her shoulder and ran off to her bedroom, completely at-home.

Jane pulled out her phone, delighted to find that she had a bit of a signal. Darcy picked up on the first ring, and Jane sighed in relief, eager to talk to someone who wasn’t a _cat._ “Hey, Darce,” she said. “I’ve had the _strangest_ day…”

 

* * *

 

The far-off wailing sound woke her up sometime in the middle of the night, and Jane sat up quickly, fumbling for the lamp by her bed. Lucky was sitting near her feet, his fur on end, ears perked. _At least I know I’m not imagining it,_ she thought.

“Hey, it’s okay,” she crooned, holding out her arms. “It’s just some other animal, little guy, but you’re safe in here.”

The kitten turned and gave her an exceptionally _skeptical_ look, then - much to her surprise - trotted over to curl in her lap. She scratched him behind the ear, and he didn’t bite her, this time. Jane almost felt _proud;_ somehow, it seemed like a major accomplishment.

“See?” she said. “We’re safe. Believe me, I can handle pretty much _anything.”_

He stared up at her for a minute or two, then let out a loud meow.

Jane imagined that he was impressed. She was a pretty impressive young woman, after all. “Yep,” she said. “You have _no_ idea, Lucky. I’ve had a very strange life.”

 

* * *

 

“Tomorrow is Halloween,” she told him as they trekked through the woods. Somehow, incredibly, she’d managed to spot one of the glowing globs of light in the sky just before sunrise that morning, and now she was determined to set out as many sensors on the side of the mountain as possible. If something weird was going on in the atmosphere, Jane Foster was going to _figure it out._

“It’s kind of funny, finding you right before Halloween, you being a black cat and all. Some people would be freaked out.” She laughed. “All we need is a full moon to really set the atmosphere.”

Lucky’s answering meow was loud. She’d kind of started to imagine that he was yelling at her, when he did that. He had such an _attitude_ for such a tiny little furball.

“You remind me of someone I know,” she told him. Since he’d made it clear that he was going to accompany her, one way or another, she’d let him ride inside her backpack, the top unzipped just enough that he could stick his head out to look around. It had to be safer than him perching on top like some kind of fuzzy parrot.

“Well, I should say someone I used to know. He died.” Jane pushed a low-hanging branch out of the way, grimacing when it scratched her hand. “He saved me, actually. I never got to really thank him for that. But he always had a massive attitude, just like you.”

He was silent, and Jane smiled faintly, dodging a puddle of mud. This wasn’t even really a trail, and the rain was starting again. She should probably head back.

“You’d make a good therapy pet,” she said. “Maybe Darcy was right. Maybe I need someone to talk to, after everything.”

The last sensor she’d set out wasn’t that far from the circle, so she decided to return to check on her instruments; she’d found them lying outside of the circle, the last time that she’d gone to check, and she’d been pretty pissed off. _This is why we can’t have nice things,_ she’d thought. _Stupid kids messing with things just for the hell of it._

Today, the sky was darkening with clouds by the time she parked at the creek, and Jane considered turning back to the cabin for a moment or two, then stubbornly decided to soldier on. After all, despite all of her weird _feelings,_ nothing had happened. Humans were just prone to fear, even when there wasn’t really anything there.

She hoped to establish that there wasn’t anything abnormal about the physical composition of the site before Bruce and Darcy arrived; once she eliminated the possibility that there was something off about the soil, or some abnormal temperature fluctuations, they could start considering alternatives. Really, she was tempted to start a partial excavation; had something like the Bifrost opened here, sometime long ago?

There were native legends of light-eyed, pale-skinned people who only came out in the moon… to Jane, that suggested _visitors from another realm._ Magic and science, hand-in-hand - it was what she lived for, really.

But something was even more _off_ than usual, today, even though Jane couldn’t entirely place it. The forest was silent again, other than a cold breeze rustling though the trees. _Oddly_ cold. Maybe she’d misread the forecast that morning?

And then, when she stepped into the circle, she pulled back the hood of her rain jacket and looked up to find _hundreds and hundreds_ of ribbons of fabric tied to the branches of the trees, fluttering in the breeze. One of the largest strips of fabric, floral and gaudy, looked _horribly_ similar to a scarf that Erik had given her last Christmas - a scarf that she’d _thought_ she’d lost on her trip, since she hadn’t been able to find it in her bag when she’d arrived at the cabin.

Her heart was in her throat.

On her back, Lucky began to hiss and snarl, and Jane spun on her heel, too terrified by what she saw to even scream.

She thought it might’ve been a woman, at first, _desperately_ hoping that it was all some prank in extremely poor taste. The woman’s skin was deathly pale, her mouth and chin covered in black paint. There were dark furs wrapped around her shoulders, and Jane noticed then that her ears were pointed. _Solid black eyes._

 _Elves?_ Jane thought, panic bubbling in her chest. She took a step back, wondering if it was a trauma-dream, inspired by her time on Svartalfheim. Lucky was still madly hissing in her backpack, and Jane glanced out of the corner of her eye to see several similarly-clad, pale figures gliding through the trees.

Towards her.

She opened her mouth, tried to make herself ask what they _wanted…_

But before she could, the creature blocking the trail smiled, revealing sharpened teeth. Its nails were sharp, too, she noticed, and her stomach lurched. Why didn’t she have a taser with her?

It cocked its head, pointing straight at her heart. “Trespasser,” it whispered. _“Aether.”_

At _‘Aether,’_ Jane turned tail and bolted for the woods on the opposite side of the clearing, her blood singing in her ears. _How how how did it know, how did it know about the Aether, the Aether was gone—_

She tore through the thick underbrush; she didn’t know where she was going, she just knew that she needed to _run._ As her backpack jostled, she heard a fearsome yowling behind her, and she turned for a moment to find Lucky dashing back towards the clearing.

“No!” Jane cried, tears in her eyes. “Wait!”

But Lucky was gone, and Jane kept running. She heard the wailing, and then the sounds of something crashing through the trees, and she _prayed._ _Please,_ she begged, _please, please._

There was a tiny opening in the trees ahead, and she hoped that she’d almost come to a road, or a major trail, and she pushed even harder, her lungs on fire. _Please please please…_

She burst into the clearing, skidding to a halt when she found herself surrounded. _Wolves._ Matted, unnaturally-large grey wolves, their legs oddly long and thin, their eyes just as black as the creature from the circle.

Jane felt faint. There were three of them; even if she could somehow manage to fend off one, she’d have no chance against the others. Reaching a hand around, she tried to fumble in her half-opened backpack. There should be a trowel in there, at least, if she could only _reach_ it...

The sound of branches rustling reached her through her panic, then, and as she resigned herself to her fate, she heard a voice cry, _“Get down, mortal!”_

A voice she _knew,_ though she could not place it.

On instinct, she threw herself down in the dirt, and a figure flew over her, green light flashing as it collided with the first of the charging wolf-creatures, then the second. Jane ducked her head and curled into a ball, terror overtaking any ability to gather herself enough to run. A loud crunching sound, and more wailing, and the sound of more crashing in the underbrush, and then she was being lifted into the air, a solid arm wrapped around her waist.

“You are so much _trouble,_ Jane Foster,” the owner of the arm remarked, and then he lunged forward, dragging her along with him.

 

* * *

 

They landed in the middle of the cabin floor, crushing the air from her lungs. She kicked and flailed, and he pushed himself off of her, grunting in annoyance. He stood, dusting off his clothes, and Jane lay on her back, eyes wide.

_“Loki?”_

“Your powers of observation are as excellent as always, I see.”

Jane squeezed her eyes closed, then opened them again. _Still there._ “You’re supposed to be _dead,”_ she blurted, scrambling to sit up.

“Well, in all fairness to _me,_ Jane Foster, I _was.”_

He held out a hand, and Jane took it, shuddering in surprise when her hand didn’t pass straight through him. She took a few steps back once he’d pulled her to her feet, extremely wary. “What are you doing here?” she demanded. “What are those… those _things?_ Are they coming after us? I have to go back for Lucky, for my cat...”

Loki was giving her a very patronizing look - a very patronizing, very _familiar_ look.

 _“You,”_ Jane whispered, pointing accusingly at his chest. “It was you the whole time, _you—”_

“Aren’t there more important things to worry about, at the moment?” Loki interrupted, dropping into one of the seats at the table. She noticed then that his neck was scratched and bleeding, and so was one of his arms. “Grey Elves. You stumbled across a pack of Grey Elf skinchangers, likely banished from Alfheim _centuries_ ago.” He picked a leaf out of his long, tangled hair, frowning at it for a moment, then flicking it to the ground. “The Light Elves don’t care for dark magic, you see.”

 _“What?”_ She leaned heavily on the counter for support, noticing only now the stinging scratches on her hands and cheeks.

“You _heard_ me, Jane. Your ability to invite trouble is _truly_ remarkable, I must commend you for that.”

“Don’t… don’t you _dare_ condescend to me,” she cried. “What are you _doing_ here, alive? Why were you a _cat?”_

Loki looked offended. “I saved your _life,_ mortal,” he snapped. “Again. Weren’t you going to _thank_ me?”

“Not until you explain yourself.”

He sighed. “Very well. I cannot die, actually. Well, to be technical, I _can_ die, but I cannot _stay_ dead. I have a deal with Death, you see, and—”

“Skip ahead to the _stalking me_ part, please.”

Glaring, he picked another leaf from his hair. “I resurrected on Midgard,” he said. “I’ve yet to regain the strength to travel between worlds, and I was _bored._ Besides, you still have the taste of the Aether about you, so I thought that it might prove useful.”

Jane swallowed down her bubbling emotions. _Stay calm,_ she thought. _Calm._ “And the cat?”

“Well, you were foolish enough to stumble your way into yet _another_ situation far beyond your meager mortal comprehension, and I thought I’d best make an appearance. The elves were on your scent as soon as you drove into these mountains, you know, and once you stepped into their circle, you might as well have offered yourself up on a platter. I’d imagine they were going to harvest what’s left of the Aether from you.” He glanced around the kitchen, apparently disinterested. “That is what _I_ would’ve done.”

“You—”

“I am hungry,” he said abruptly, drumming his fingers on the table.

“Okay.” Jane stared at him for a moment, and Loki stared right back at her. The _absurdity_ of it all… A laugh bubbled up suddenly, and Jane wiped the drying tears from her cheeks. “You _saved_ me,” she said, and then she pictured the angry little kitten sitting on her kitchen table, tail twitching, and she started laughing in earnest, bordering on hysterical. “You were a _cat.”_

Loki eyed her suspiciously, apparently confused by her sudden change in tone. “Yes,” he said slowly, “that is correct.” And then the corner of his lip curled slightly, hinting at a smirk, as he added, “I slept in your bed, as well.”

“Oh, God.” She took a deep breath, trying to get her emotions back under control. “You weren’t watching me while I _changed,_ were you? Or in the shower?”

“What a filthy mind you have, Dr. Foster.” Loki laughed then, too, as if some great tension had burst. “I wasn’t, but we can remedy that, if you wish.”

“Don’t push your luck.” She held out her hand, and when she saw how confused he was at the gesture, she changed her mind and hugged him. “Thank you,” she said, acutely aware of the way he stiffened at the embrace, despite all of his bravado. “They _are_ gone, right? We’re safe?”

Loki patted her on the back awkwardly, and Jane pulled away. “They are. I killed the witch and a few of her wolflings, and I doubt the rest would dare disturb you, so long as I am around.”

She should be angrier about the whole _stalking and pretending to be a cat_ thing, but she was just so _relieved…_ Jane realized then that she was still practically sitting in his lap, and her cheeks flushed. “You’re… hungry, right?”

“I am.”

“Have you ever been to a diner?”  

 

**Author's Note:**

> Lokaaaaane
> 
> I've always loved reading this pairing, but this is my first time writing for it. I figured a Halloween one-shot was the perfect way to jump in! ;D This isn't any specific spot in the Appalachians - it's a bit of an amalgamation of a bunch of different places I've been to.
> 
> As always, I love hearing what you think!
> 
> <3  
> MoA


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